Disclaimer! This is for my last 4 as well. I forgot. My bad. I own nothing. Oh wait I own the chants in 'Watch Out Jean.'

"Just pass me the wrench Pietro."

"What's a wrench?"

"That one right there."

"This one?"

"NO! That's the screwdriver. I can't believe you can't tell the difference between a wrench and a screwdriver!"

"Naaaaahh! I don't care what you think. I'm not the one who fancies himself a handy-man. I still say we should have hired someone else to fix this."

"Oh great idea Pietro," Lance snorted from his position on the floor, "why don't we just wave it in front of Mystique's face. It would get the same result. You know she'd never let us have something like this."

"I hope you realise she's suspicious already. Probably thinks we're doing drugs or something, heading off to the garage every 5 minutes."

"As long as it stays hidden we'll be fine," Lance answered, "If she thinks we're doing drugs who cares? Yes! That's it! Pass it here, where was I?"

"Drugs," Pietro answered, passing the wrench to Lance.

"Right. As I was saying, if she thinks we're doing drugs who cares? She won't ever find any evidence."

"Who said she ever looked for evidence?" Pietro muttered, "what's this do?"

"Don't touch that!"

"What this?"


"Fine, I won't. But only cause I'm in a good mood today." There was silence as Lance continued to screw something into place with the wrench, whilst Pietro stood about looking incredibly bored.

"Pietro, get down here," Lance ordered, not looking up from his work. Shrugging his shoulders the slender teen knelt beside his friend.


"Come here. Now, you see that small rivet? Can you reach over and twist it for me?"

Pietro frowned into the darkened underside of their contraption, obvious distaste on his face.

"But there's oil all over the floor just here," Pietro complained.

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Lance rolled his eyes, "just do it."

"Why don't you?" Pietro snapped.

"Because your hands are smaller than mine. More - slender."

"Great, slender hands," Pietro said, glancing down at his slender hands and graceful fingers.

"Just do it." Grumbling under his breath Pietro reached over Lance's head and gripped the rivit.

"I just twist?" Pietro asked.


"It's not moving."

"Come on Pietro but a bit of effort into it," Lance sighed at the speedster.

"I am putting some effort into it! It's not moving! Woah! It came off! Was it supposed to come off?"

"That's the general idea," Lance grinned.

"Where do you want it?" Pietro asked, holding the oil covered rivet at arm's length.

"Over there by the spare parts," Lance jerked a thumb in that general direction. Pietro pushed himself to his feet and dropped the rivet on the garage floor. "Hey hey, careful," Lance snapped, "I might need that later."

"Oh well," Pietro said, "at the rate you're going by the time you decide to use that it will be rust-covered."

"Well I don't see you helping," Lance fumed.

"That's because I'm the supervisor. You're just the common workman. A caveman. A rough, uncultured thug."

"And you are?"

"The creme de la creme. The top dog. Numero uno. I'm just too fab for words. Or as those crazy French people say the piece de resistance."

"Or the self-absorbed prat who thinks that just because chicks dig his fabulous style he must be fucking king of the world," Lance muttered.

"What was that?" Pietro snapped.

"Nothing," Lance smiled, "we better get back inside before Mystique notices we've gone and decides to interrupt our 'session.' " Lance stood up, wiping his hands on the oil-rag, and serveying his handy-work.

"Is it almost finished?" Pietro asked, azure eyes gleaming with delight.

"Almost. And right on schedule. Now help me cover it."

"But that cloth's been on the floor," Pietro whined, "I don't want to touch that. Look at it. It's filthy."

"Grab the end or I'll wipe the rest of this oil on your face."

"Gotta catch me first," Pietro said, zipping off at top speed. Lance slammed his foot into the ground, shaking the concrete and iron garage just enough to topple Pietro off his feet.

"Gotcha," Lance grinned.

"No! Don't! Lance please, I just had a shower. Lance! You don't want to do this to me do you? Your best friend. BestBestBestBestBestBestFriend. Ahggg! It's cold. Slimy. Yeuck. How can you touch this stuff? No not the shirt! Please not the shirt. You put it on the shirt! You are paying for that out of your allowance young man!"

"It was worth it," Lance grinned getting up and offering an oil covered hand to Pietro who still lay on the floor, although he too was now covered in oil. Pietro glared at the offending hand and looked up at Lance as if to say 'you must be joking. I'm not touching that.'

"Up to you," Lance said, "now help me cover up this catapult." Grumbling under his breath Pietro sulkily grabbed one end and helped Lance throw the cloth over the home-made catapult.

- - -

"Where have you two been?" Mystique snapped, whipping around to catch the two teens as the sneaked back into the house.

"Yard," Lance said at the same time Pietro said, "Courts." The two boys glared at each other, obviously both finding the other in the wrong.

"Which one was it?" Mystique asked, seeming to find satisfaction in the boys discomfort.

"Uhhh, the courts," Lance said.

"Yard," Pietro said. Again the two boys glared at one another.

"Brains not working too well boys?" Mystique asked.

"Told you she thinks we're doing drugs," Pietro hissed.

"What was that?" Mystique snapped.

"Nothing Boss," Pietro smiled disarmingly, "we don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really," Mystique smiled, walking over to the two boys and sniffing the air around them. All she got was the smell of oil and grease.

"We've been fixing the Porsche," Lance said.

"Nice try Lance," Mystique smiled, "but you didn't fool me. I know for a fact that Pietro wouldn't touch a car engine, much less fix one. He can't even handle fixing a light bulb. They fact that he's covered in oil, something he would never do, just incriminates you two further."

"I'll say," Pietro sighed, "do you know how disgusting this feels. Like cold snot." He gave a compulsive shiver. "Ahehhh." He shuddered. Lance glared at Pietro, elbowing him in the side.

"Owww!" Pietro grumbled, rubbing his side and glaring sulkily at Lance.

"Ha!" Mystique crowed in triumph, "I knew you were on drugs! Will you boys never learn, you can't hide anything from me."

"We sure can't," Pietro said, nodding in wide-eyed innocence.

"Not a thing," Lance added, "eyes in the back of your head."

"Waaaaaait a minute," Mystique frowned, "what are you two up too? You never agree to anything I say."

"Guess we're reformed," Pietro said, keeping up his carefully created mask of innocence."

"Perfect angels," Lance grinned.

"Angels my ass," Mystique muttered, "all right. You can go. But I'm watching you."

"Thank god," Pietro said, throwing his arms heaven-ward, "shower here I come!"

- - -

"It's beautiful!" Pietro gasped as he and Lance surveyed their handy-work.

"A perfect splattering machine," Lance grinned.

"Heh heh heh," Pietro rubbed his hands together, "now to test this baby."

"Well Mystique's out tonight," Lance said, " and tonight's as good as any."

"Let's do it!" Pietro grinned maniacally.

- - -



"Rotten fruit?"


"Left over noodles from last night's take-out?"

"Check," Lance grinned, holding up the bag.

"Excellent. Paint balls?"

"Right here."

"Okay, what else," Pietro mused, "ah yes my secret weapon."

"Your what?" Lance frowned.

"Secret weapon."

"What does it do?"

"You'll see," Pietro grinned. "Hey," Pietro frowned, "do you think the beanie of the

marine's cap?"

"Huh?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

"Which one?" Pietro repeated. "I mean the beanie's so thuggish, but the marine's cap just screams high class stealth assassin."

Lance rolled his eyes, "does it really matter? Both look pretty stupid on you if you ask me."

"You're just angry cause I get a hat and you don't."

"How long will it take us to get this thing in place?" Lance asked.

"Don't change the subject!"

"Okay, okay! The beanie."

Pietro looked at the beanie sceptically, "you think?"

"Fine! Wear the marine cap. I don't care! Can we please just get this thing moving!"

"Fine," Pietro said, putting on a hurt face and sniffing pitifully, "if that's the way you want to do things."

"Oh come on Pietro, it's okay. You can wear the hat."

"No. No it's too late now. You've already done the damage to my sensitive soul."

"Does your sensitive soul want to egg the X-mansion or not?" Lance asked, his patience running out.

Pietro looked up from his sulk, "yes."

"Well let's get moving then."

"Right Boss-Man," Pietro saluted Lance. In a flurry of movement the catapult was loaded onto Lance's car in the space of 20 seconds.

"Nice," Lance grinned.

"I know I'm perfect," Pietro said, holding a hand modestly to his chest and casting his eyes down, "Now let's go!"

"Yeah," Lance smiled, "let's rock."

- - -

The X-mansion and it's surrounding grounds were all quiet. A cool breeze blew through the trees, causing the clouds and the moon to dance together,creating shadow plays on the earth. Down below, a figure that could not be followed by the naked eye, sped through the grounds and into the mansion. After a few seconds it reappeared and waved in the direction of the gate.

- - -

Rouge tossed in her bed, dreams commanding her thoughts. On the other side of the room Kitty slept peacefully, a small teddy bear in her arms. Scott too, slept peacefully in the room he shared with Kurt. Evan muttered something in his sleep and down the hall Jean sighed in bliss as Bradd Pitt kissed her in dreams.


Jean sat up in bed her heart beating fast. Her eyes wide, she looked about her room slowly.


The sound came again. Her heart in her throat Jean fled her room.

"Scott!," she hissed as she knocked frantically at the teen's door. "Open up. Please open."

"What?" Scott yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Scott there's something outside," Jean gasped.

"What?" Scott frowned, "you're imagining things Jean. Go back to bed."

"I'm not imagining things!" Jean said, her voice raising to a crazy pitch, "I heard something!"


"What the hell was that?" Scott yelped.

"I don't know! That's what I heard. Scott, I'm telling you there's something out there!"


"What's that?"

"Oh my god there's something on my window!"

"Ahhh attack of the killer - what that hell is that!?!"

- - -

"Heh heh heh, sleep my pretties. Sleeeeeep," Pietro laughed.

"Ready to fire," Lance grinned.

"All right then. Ready men, er man? FIRE!"


"Whoo-hooo! That one went in an open window!"

"Hey Pietro," Lance asked, loading in a pot of smelly yoghurt, "what happened to your secret weapon?"

"You'll see."

- - -

"X-Men move out!" Scott shouted, mustering the sleep-befuddled mutants as best he could. Evan and Kitty were out the door first, suited up and ready for action.

"Ahhhhhh!" Kitty yelled sliding out of control as soon as she set foot on the doorstep, "Stop!" Unfortunately her warning came too late and Evan slammed into her back followed by the rest of the X-Men. Pietro laughed evilly as the group of mutants tried to untangle themselves and get up on the slippery doorstep.

"Look it Lance," Pietro grinned, "moving targets."

"Ready when you are."

"Very well. Fire at will!"


"Ouch! That hurt!"

"Watch it you morons!"


"Arggg! Mah hair!"


"What the hell is this!?! Noodles? Gross!"

"That secret weapon worked quite nicely wouldn't you say my good man?" Pietro asked conversationally in a posh English voice as Lance loaded up the catapult.

"Indeed it did," Lance laughed, letting the catapult rip.


"That 's it!" Evan roared, "you have stepped over the line this time Maximoff!"

"Who is that quaint little man?" Pietro asked, "here good sir, stop interrupting me, I'm

talking to my colleague here."

"Jean, use your powers to pull us out!" Scott yelled to be heard over the others.

"All right," Jean shouted back. A ghost wind raised her hair, and very soon the rest of the X-Men were on non-slippery ground.

"Quicksilver you are going down!" Evan yelled, racing forward, a spike protruding from his arm.

"Ready Lance?" Pietro asked.



"Ahhhhhhhh! No! Not a paint bomb!" Evan tried to duck at the last moment, but he was too late.

"Better lay off those Cheeseburgers Daniel's," Pietro laughed, "you're getting sluggish."

"Get off of me you pointy-eared freak!" Lance yelled, swatting at a Kurt as he tugged at Lance's hair.

"Fuzzy, meet your worst nightmare!" Pietro grinned. Kurt turned, to find himself face to face with a watergun.

"Ohhh I'm so scared," Kurt sniggered, "Oh please don't squirt me with your watergun Pietro! I can't stand water!"

"There's no water in here," Pietro smirked. Kurt's face fell. "Who's laughing now blue-boy? I bet p.v.a don't come out too easy." With a shriek Kurt tried to teleport out but it was too late. "I'm the fastest gun in he west! No-one can escape from me!" Pietro zipped about the X-Men spraying them with p.v.a glue left, right and center.

"Ohh my god, it's in my hair!" Jean cried.

"My eyes!" Kitty screamed, "he almost got some in my eyes!"

"Ah can't see!" Rouge cried.

"Enemy successfully blinded sah!" Pietro clicked his heels and saluted Lance, "permission to blast their asses!"

"Permission granted Lieutenant," Lance smiled.


"Is this cold custard? Oh my god it is cold custard!"

"All right that's it!" Scott roared, "you two are really in the deep end now!" He moved his hand to the side of his p.v.a and custard splattered visor.

"Run!" Lance yelped.

"But Lance, the catapult!"

"If Mystique finds us wasted by the X-Men we're going to be paraplegics who will never be able to use a catapult anyway!"

"Good point. Okay, RUUUUUUUUUNN!" Pietro grabbed Lance, and sped off just as Scott fired a blast in their general direction. The two teens scrambled into the car, reversing backwards out of jeep's hiding place.


"Opps, do you think they needed that?" Pietro asked.

"Who cares?" Lance yelled, "just drive!" With a screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber, the the two members of the Brotherhood, roared out of the grounds.

- - -

"Really?" Mystique said to the person on the phone, "don't you worry I'll deal with them Professor, thank you for calling." She turned to Pietro and Lance who were trying to slip

out of the room behind her back. "All right you two, get your asses back in here. What did you think you were doing when you catapulted Xavier's house!?! Did you think you would get away with it? That they wouldn't hear a 5 ton bag of flour hitting their house at 3:00 in the morning!?!"

"Is that a trick question?" Pietro asked.

"No it is not a trick question!"

"Ah okay, pass."

"Yeah I pass too," Lance said.

"You two will be going back there to clean everything up!"

"Awww Mystique come on! We were only having a little fun; plus we trashed those X-geeks good. Aren't you proud of us?"

"If you morons had thought before you did this you would have realised that afterwards the house would need to be cleaned! And thanks to the fact that you got caught in the act, Xavier knows who will be paying for it!"

"We don't have a choice do we?" Lance asked.

"NO! Either you pay for the damage out of your own pockets or you clean the entire grounds; at normal speed."

"Awww Mystique, that's not fair! Just because I happen to be faster doesn't mean that I should spend all that extra time on that old bald guys mansion!"

"You will do it or you will find yourself sleeping in a cardboard box instead of a bed tonight!" Lance and Pietro exchanged glances. "that isn't really an option you two so stop thinking about it!"

"Bugger," Lance said.

- - -

"Having fun Pietro!?!" Evan called up to the white-haired speedster as he washed a paint smeared window. For an answer Pietro 'accidentally dropped the bucket of dirty water on Evan's head. "Yeuk!" Evan cried, pawing at his eyes as he tried to get the scummy water off his face.

"Whoops, didn't see you down there Evan!" Pietro called innocently.

"Hey Pietro," Lance called, "I can see into Rouge's room from up here!"

"Oh let me see!"

"Ahhhhhggg! Get away from mah window ya perverts!"

"Touchy! Guess we almost caught you and Kitty out huh Rouge?"

"Lance, ya are so disgusting!"

"Howz the fur fuzzy?" Pietro grinned.

Kurt looked up as he walked back inside the mansion, picking at the glue-matted fur, "you are so dead for this Pietro Maximoff!"

Laughing Lance and Pietro slapped high fives.